Matikas Pilipinas blog features various topics about the Philippines such as Philippine art, Philippine culture and literature, Philippine history, Filipino people and travel in the Philippines.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Mi Ultimo Adios by Jose Rizal (Spanish with English translations)

In honor of the 150th birthday of the national hero of the Philippines, Dr. Jose P. Rizal, I will post his last poem "Mi Ultimo Adios". Jose Rizal's final poem, "Mi Ultimo Adios", was written during the night before his execution on December 30, 1896. At that time, he was in his jail cell in the Spanish walled city of Intramuros. He was executed in Bagumbayan, now the Rizal Park or Luneta, and was secretly buried in an unmarked grave in Paco Cemetery (now Paco Park), Manila. However, his sister Narcisa found the grave and had it marked "RPJ", Jose Rizal's initials in reverse."Mi Ultimo Adios" was hidden by Rizal in a gas lamp which was given back to Rizal's family after the execution. It has been translated into at least 38 languages and is widely regarded as the most patriotic poem in the world. A song entitled "Ultimo Adios" was also made by Joey Ayala based on the poem.

Jose Rizal's remains were later exhumed from Paco Cemetery and placed in the Rizal Monument in Rizal Park. A small shrine still stands in Paco Park to remember where Rizal was first buried.

Statues reenacting Jose Rizal's execution are a popular attraction in Rizal Park, Manila. These statues are placed on the exact spot where the execution took place.

Jose Rizal is the national hero of the Philippines. His two novels, "Noli Me Tangere" and "El Filibusterismo", inspired Andres Bonifacio and all the members of the Kataas-taasan, Kagalang-galangang Katipunan ng mga Anak ng Bayan or KKKto fight for freedom during the Philippine Revolution. The two novels are an important part of Philippine History and Philippine Literature. He will celebrate his 150th birthday on June 19, 2011. A 22 ft (6.7 m) bronze statue of Rizal was unveiled on his birthday by President Benigno "Noy-Noy" Aquino III in his home town of Calamba, Laguna.

Mi último adiós (Original Spanish text)

¡Adiós, Patria adorada, región del sol querida,

Perla del mar de oriente, nuestro perdido Edén!

A darte voy alegre la triste mustia vida,

Y fuera más brillante, más fresca, más florida,

También por ti la diera, la diera por tu bien.

En campos de batalla, luchando con delirio,

Otros te dan sus vidas sin dudas, sin pesar;

El sitio nada importa, ciprés, laurel o lirio,

Cadalso o campo abierto, combate o cruel martirio,

Lo mismo es si lo piden la patria y el hogar.

Yo muero cuando veo que el cielo se colora

Y al fin anuncia el día tras lóbrego capuz;

si grana necesitas para teñir tu aurora,

Vierte la sangre mía, derrámala en buen hora

Y dórela un reflejo de su naciente luz.

Mis sueños cuando apenas muchacho adolescente,

Mis sueños cuando joven ya lleno de vigor,

Fueron el verte un día, joya del mar de oriente,

Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente,

Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor

Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo,

¡Salud te grita el alma que pronto va a partir!

¡Salud! Ah, que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo,

Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo,

Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir.

Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar un día

Entre la espesa yerba sencilla, humilde flor,

Acércala a tus labios y besa al alma mía,

Y sienta yo en mi frente bajo la tumba fría,

De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor.

Deja a la luna verme con luz tranquila y suave,

Deja que el alba envíe su resplandor fugaz,

Deja gemir al viento con su murmullo grave,

Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave,

Deja que el ave entone su cántico de paz.

Deja que el sol, ardiendo, las lluvias evapore

Y al cielo tornen puras, con mi clamor en pos;

Deja que un ser amigo mi fin temprano llore

Y en las serenas tardes cuando por mí alguien ore,

¡Ora también, oh Patria, por mi descanso a Dios!

Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura,

Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual,

Por nuestras pobres madres que gimen su amargura;

Por huérfanos y viudas, por presos en tortura

Y ora por ti que veas tu redención final.

Y cuando en noche oscura se envuelva el cementerio

Y solos sólo muertos queden velando allí,

No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio,

Tal vez acordes oigas de cítara o salterio,

Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto a ti.

Y cuando ya mi tumba de todos olvidada

No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar,

Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada,

Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a la nada,

El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan a formar.

Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido.

Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré.

Vibrante y limpia nota seré para tu oído,

Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido,

Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fe.

Mi patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores,

Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adiós.

Ahí te dejo todo, mis padres, mis amores.

Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores,

Donde la fe no mata, donde el que reina es Dios.

Adiós, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mía,

Amigos de la infancia en el perdido hogar,

Dad gracias que descanso del fatigoso día;

Adiós, dulce extranjera, mi amiga, mi alegría,

Adiós, queridos seres, morir es descansar.

The Valedictory Poem

(English translation of Mi Ultimo Adios by Nick Joaquin)

Land that I love: farewell: O land the sun loves:

Pearl in the sea of the Orient: Eden lost to your brood!

Gaily go I to present you this hapless hopeless life:

Were it more brilliant: had it more freshness, more bloom:

Still for you would I give it: would give it for your good!

On the field of battle, fighting with delirium,

others give you their lives without doubts, without gloom.

The site nought matters: cypress, laurel or lily:

gibbet or open field: combat or cruel martyrdom

are equal if demanded by country and home.

I am to die when I see the heavens go vivid,

announcing the day at last behind the dead night.

If you need color – color to stain that dawn with,

let spill my blood: scatter it in good hour:

and drench in its gold one beam of the newborn light.

My dreams when a lad, when scarcely adolescent:

my dreams when a young man, now with vigor inflamed:

were to behold you one day: Jewel of eastern waters:

griefless the dusky eyes: lifted the upright brow:

unclouded, unfurrowed, unblemished and unashamed!

Enchantment of my life: my ardent avid obsession:

To your health! cries the soul, so soon to take the last leap:

To your health! O lovely: how lovely: to fall that you may rise!

to perish that you may live! to die beneath you skies!

and upon your enchanted ground the eternities to sleep!

Should you find someday somewhere on my gravemound, fluttering

among tall grasses, a flower of simple fame:

caress it with your lips and you kiss my soul:

I shall feel on my face across the cold tombstone:

of your tenderness, the breath; of your breath, the flame.

Suffer the moon to keep watch, tranquil and suave, over me:

suffer the dawn its flying lights to release:

suffer the wind to lament in murmurous and grave manner:

and should a bird drift down and alight on my cross,

suffer the bird to intone its canticle of peace.

Suffer the rains to dissolve in the fiery sunlight

and purified reascending heavenward bear my cause:

suffer a friend to grieve I perished so soon:

and on fine evenings, when someone prays in my memory,

pray also – O my land! – that in God I repose.

Pray for all who have fallen befriended by no fate:

for all who braved the bearing of torments all bearing past:

to our poor mothers piteously breathing forth bitterness:

for widows and orphans: for those in tortured captivity

and yourself: pray to behold your redemption at last.

And when in dark night shrouded obscurely the graveyard lies

and only, only the dead keep vigil the night through:

keep holy the peace: keep holy the mystery.

Strains perhaps you will hear – of zither, or of psalter:

It is I – O land I love! – it is I, singing to you!

And when my grave is wholly unremembered

and unlocated (no cross upon it, no stone there plain);

let the site be wracked by the plow and cracked by the spade

and let my ashes, before they vanish to nothing,

as dust be formed a part of your carpet again.

Nothing then will it matter to place me in oblivion!

Across your air, your space, your valleys shall pass my wraith!

A pure chord, strong and resonant, shall I be in your ears:

fragrance, light and color: whispers, lyric and sigh:

constantly repeating the essence of my faith!

Land that I idolized: prime sorrow among my sorrows:

beloved Filipinas, hear me the farewell word:

I bequeath you everything – my family, my affections:

I go where no slaves are – nor butchers: nor oppressors:

where faith cannot kill: where God’s the sovereign lord!

Farewell, my parents, my brothers – fragments of my soul:

friends of old and playmates in childhood’s vanished house:

offer thanks that I rest from the restless day!

Farewell, sweet foreigner – my darling, my delight!

Creatures I love, farewell! To die is to repose.

The Rizal Monument is where the remains of the Philippine National Hero, Jose Rizal, is buried. It stands in Rizal Park, Manila, formerly the Bagumbayan, which was also where Jose Rizal was executed.